Retreads and Redemption
by DodgeSuperBee
Summary: Tow Mater and Doreen have fallen hard for each other, but when her father catches them together he blackmails them into helping him plot an atrocious crime. Strong rating on Chapters 4 & 8. TowMaterDoreen TommyJoeOC
1. Riding with Cars and Boys

_**Setting:** Radiator Springs and outlying areas of Carburetor County, 1970s_

_**Author's Notes:** This story is darker and contains much stronger content than my previous fanfiction, hence the M rating. Chapter Four is especially R-rated. (Some of you will probably skip directly to that chapter, right? Don't do that; it won't make sense out of context.)_

_**Content:** Oh noes, it's truxploitation!! Mature themes, sensuality, adult situations, swearing and strong language, alcohol use, violence, etc. All adult situations are consensual and between characters well over the age of 18._

_**Disclaimers:** All characters copyright Pixar/Disney. In fact, if anyone wants to take any element of this story and run with it creatively (art, writing, etc.) you have my permission._

"I used to know this girl Doreen. Good-lookin' girl, looked just like a Jaguar...only she was a truck! I used to crash into her just so I could spoke to her."

* * *

The Rustbucket Arena's Saturday night races were in full swing, as evidenced by the enormous clouds of dust billowing up from the track. The Pit Girls, a motley group of cars with a few trucks thrown in the mix, crammed themselves against the chain-link fence by the grandstand, which was their usual outpost on weekends. They catcalled to the racers who weren't much older than themselves and squealed as they tried to shield themselves from the dirt clods kicked up by the competitors' tires. Naturally, they'd washed and polished themselves before the races to look better, though it was an exercise in futility. They had been in need of a carwash since the first lap of the evening, though they hardly cared. 

"Here's mud in yer eye, Becky!" yelled Doreen Tireiron, raising a cup of ethanol and ducking unsuccessfully as a small stone bounced off her hood. She and her friends and cousins were more or less the only remaining young and single females in the sparsely-populated county, so a few rust spots and dents notwithstanding, they were proud to call themselves pit girls and shoot photos with the winners.

"Right on!" yelled back the other vehicle, toasting her friend. Doreen ignored the flecks atop the foam in her drink and started on it, then rushed to finish it before the beverage could be knocked from her tire in the excitement. Despite her usual exuberance at the races – this was, after all, her one chance each week to escape from the hell-hole she had the misfortune of calling home – she had been fighting an acute feeling of restlessness for some time. The first few years after she'd reached adulthood, she had been more than content to hang out at the races drinking ethanol like she was now, surrounded by envious friends who weren't yet old enough to do so. Lately, though, she'd realized that she had become the stereotypical young adult who was trying to relive the good old high school days by hanging out with the younger kids. Not that those days were particularly worth trying to recapture; her father had forced her to quit well before graduation.

"…And leading the paaaaaaaaack, we have Numbah Fifty-Sixxxx!" screamed the shrill voice of the announcer, who was beside himself with glee. To Doreen it sounded like the loudmouth might have tossed back a few drinks himself.

"C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!" encouraged the girls, leaping off the ground and shaking the fence in their frenzy. A few maintenance cars nearby turned to watch the melee on the sidelines, then smiled knowingly. Female trucks tended to be rowdier and brassier than their automobile counterparts, and these girls were famously passionate about seeing their favorites win the races.

The clamor reached a fever pitch as the race ended, and Doreen felt Becky pulling her through the blinding maelstrom of grit as everyone shoved and clanked against each other in an effort to squeeze through the gates and reach the winner, as they had done a thousand times before. Number Fifty-Six was a strong, hulking muscle car with a supercharger, and he grinned smugly as the girls crowded around him for the photo shoot, congratulating him.

"You gals just keep lookin' cute and smile purty," said Lenny, the arena's photographer, posing the winner's free cases of oil and engine coolant next to the muscle car so the sponsor's names would show. The girls moved in closer and a few of the bolder ones even poised themselves to kiss the winner. Lenny eyed the group through his lens then frowned suddenly, pulling away from the camera.

"Eh, you best get outta the frame, missy," he said, shrugging a tire. Doreen realized with a start that he was addressing her. She rolled aside, wondering what was wrong. A few of her friends shouted protests, but the camera flashed a few times in rapid succession and then its operator started to pack up his equipment. Doreen recovered from her surprise and started after him, annoyed.

"Hey, what the hell was that for?" she demanded, awaiting an explanation. "It's 'cuz I'm a truck, ain't it? Well, I'll have ya know that Becky's a truck an' so's Sadie and we're not that different from the cars—"

Lenny was unapologetic as he cut her off. "That ain't quite it. I don't want to flatten yer tires with ya bein' young an' all, but yer a bit, eh…_oxidized_ for the sponsors' likin.' They told me not to get any rusty gals in the pitchers this time 'cuz they jest gotta airbrush yer pitcher clean or nobody'll buy their products." Doreen halted, stunned by his words. _Airbrushing?_ The only sponsors the racetrack ever had were two-bit retailers posting their fliers at the local general store.

The photographer wasn't done. "I mean, go find yerself a puddle of oil an' lookit yerself in it. Ya done let yerself go, if ya even had anything to hold onto in the first place." He eyed the battered truck with disdain. Her body was more like that of a car, but equipped with a pickup bed. He wasn't sure, nor did he care, if she was a Ranchero, El Camino, or whatever else they saw fit to call models like her. _A mashup of car an' truck…must be good ol' country inbreeding,_ Lenny thought. As if her unaesthetic shape wasn't hard enough on the eyes, she was obviously too broke to afford a better paint job or restorative work, as her flanks, paneled tastelessly in low-quality woodgrain, were flecked with that offensive rust. Definitely not what the sponsor wanted depicted in his ad when he was trying to take his advertising national.

"This _is_ called the Rustbucket Arena, last time I checked! Damn ya and yer double standards!" cried Doreen, hurt nonetheless as she peeled out, leaving him choking on the dust her retread tires kicked up. She glanced back to see her friends watching her from a distance, concerned. They hadn't heard her words with the cameraman or they would have jumped into the fray without a moment's hesitation. She waved them off without a second thought and they reluctantly turned their attention back to flirting with the night's champion.

Damn if there wasn't indeed an oil puddle directly in her path. Doreen was determined not to look into it, but the temptation was immense and she gazed downward, eyeing the brick red spots and the gray primer with which she'd unsuccessfully tried to conceal them before she'd given up. She rubbed a tire against one of the blemishes on her bumper. Tonight's incident had been far from the first time someone had mocked her for her rust, but she had always viewed her imperfect appearance as evidence to the world that she'd worked hard in her life so far. You could live pampered in a garage and die someday with a flawless body, or you could live a little and gather some rust, she'd always been told.

Besides, Lenny and most everyone else around knew what kind of home she came from, and they should have been impressed she had turned out halfway decent. The Tireirons had a reputation as the nastiest, most banged-up, meanest family in the outlying hills of Carburetor County. Thinking of them, Doreen looked around for a clock, hoping it wasn't too close to midnight. That's when her father was most likely to find his way home, and if he caught her out of the house without finishing her allotment of chores, there'd be hell to pay. She'd already taken a chance coming out tonight.

Doreen sighed, thinking that she'd never find contentment if it hit her upside the cab. As if on cue, a sudden impact knocked her sideways and right into the chain-link fence. She slid back down the embankment, dazed, and turned to face a tow truck who was grinning at her like a smart-aleck. Without hesitation she pounced on him, tires thumping against his bumper, and they tussled on the ground. Neither was aiming to hurt the other, as both male and female trucks were known for engaging in horseplay well into adulthood.

"Uncle!" laughed the truck as she prepared to rub a tireful of dirt into his face. She backed off and they stood apart, catching their breath. Doreen was just about to speak when a racecar, rusty as the truck, veered at them, with mischief clearly on his mind.

"No way, Tommy Joe!" said the tow truck, pulling in front of Doreen to shield her, "I done crashed into her first." The racer slid to a halt before the truck and pouted.

"Hey, it's Doreen!" Tommy Joe greeted her, suddenly brightening. She had taken victory photos with him before. "Looks like ya hit it off right good with Tow Mater here, 'cuz yer the first gal to turn around and kick his ass after he crashed into ya." He winked at them.

Doreen pulled herself up on her tires, filled with a strange sense of pride upon hearing that information. "Ya two sure have strange ways of meetin' girls, if that's what yer tryin' to do." She frowned as she examined her side. There were so many dents already, and she was sure there had to be a new one among them thanks to this Mater guy.

"Aw, I'm sorry," Tow Mater said, looking apologetic. Doreen noticed for the first time that he was covered with mud and much of it had transferred to her during their scuffle. She had seen Mater before, but always from a distance because he worked down on the track, hauling around a water sprayer to dampen down the dirt before the races and pulling stalled cars to the center of the oval.

"He'll be happy to kiss it better!" snickered Tommy Joe, who got thumped with a hefty tow truck tire.

"Just ignore my sorry excuse for a cousin," said Mater, flustered and wishing he'd thought of what to say to Doreen before he'd run into her. "Can I make it up to ya by buyin' ya a drink at the concession stand?"

Doreen's irritation faded as she realized the sincerity in Mater's attempts to impress her, as misguided as they were. _Damn, I'm smiling like a fool, ain't I?_

"Well, I'll leave ya'll to figger out if ya got enough original paint between the two of ya to fill a pint can," said Tommy Joe, eyeing Sadie by the grandstand as his next target. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, looking over his shoulder. "Ya'll are slobs!" His words made his cousin realize there had been times he had looked better, and then he glanced slyly at Doreen.

"Gotta admit he's right, and I only got one token for the carwash," Mater said, feigning concern but finding it impossible to hide his mischievous grin. "Guess we'll have to go through _together_." He dropped the coin into the machine, not giving her much time to consider the offer.

"I normally wouldn't do this on a first date with a guy," Doreen blushed in hesitation before remembering just what type of reputation she had anyway. She rolled up beside him on the conveyor belt. "But hell, I've never been on a date before so who cares?"

_Date?!_ thought Mater excitedly. Strong jets of water immediately blasted them from all sides and he howled with laughter as the smaller truck was pushed against him. She had never used the racetrack's carwash before and was used to hosing off back at home.

"Yaaaaah that's cold!" Doreen shrieked, "and what's the setting, full monster truck force?" It felt like her paint was being washed right off along with the mud. She only got a faceful of sudsy water for opening her mouth, but at least the second wave of water in the scrub cycle was warmer. Mater hadn't stopped laughing since the carwash began, and she found herself joining in as the automatic brushes swept at them. Finally, a sheet of hot water rained down and they stood at the end of the conveyor belt, steam pouring out past them into the night.

"Well, that was a rush, huh?" said Mater, still chuckling. "As fun as the racin' itself." Then he noticed Doreen shaking water off her doors and stopped in his tracks, awestruck at the sight of her. Tendrils of moisture rose into the air off the curves of her frame, which was more rounded than a typical truck's and yet boxier than most cars'. As if to put the matter of her identity to rest, her license plate read "pickup."

"_Daaaaaaaaaamn,_ yer beautiful," he said in a barely audible voice. "Anyone tell ya that ya look just like a Jaguar?" Doreen's eyes widened as she listened in disbelief.

"Aw, c'mon," she begged, "if I was a Jaguar and had this much primer and rust on my body, I'd drive myself off the nearest cliff."

"Ya'd make a lotta guys unhappy if ya did that," said Mater.

"Yeah, my pa and brothers. They'd have to cook their own damn food and clean the shack themselves." Mater wasn't sure how to respond to that and he sensed Doreen didn't want to discuss it further. He tried to change the subject.

"I've seen ya 'round the track before but I'm tryin' to think where I heard yer name 'fore I met ya." He paused, thinking hard. "Oh yeah, I think I done read it on the men's restroom wall." _Aw shoot, now why'd I have to go and say that out loud fer? I'm gonna strike out with this gal._

Doreen looked bemused, then shrugged and smiled. "I've been told that I can be called on for havin' a good time accordin' to what's written there. Maybe I should go in there myself someday and see if half of it's true." She gazed into the depths of his eyes, trying to figure him out. "Ya know, ya sure have a knack for sayin' the wrong thing at the wrong time, but I think yer pretty neat."

Moments later they were pulling away from the concession stand, each with a tall beverage that Mater had paid for. "Thought ya said back at the wash that ya done used yer last token," Doreen said with a smirk. As they parked by the fence she had a good chance to admire the tow truck, sans dirt. He had only a small amount of his original baby blue paint job left, and he too looked like he was no stranger to hard work.

Mater looked startled. "Oh, uh, yeah…I gotta save money somewhere. 'Specially if it gets a cute girl goin' through the carwash with me on our first _date_." She looked away from him as if embarrassed, but he caught her gazing at the clock on a nearby wall.

_It's only eleven, I got time before I need to race home._

"What're ya so worried 'bout the clock fer?" the tow truck inquired curiously, "Ya afraid ya'll turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" They had reached the edge of the concession area but kept driving.

Doreen smiled, surprising herself with the suggestive tone her voice reflected. "No, I'm afraid that after midnight I might stop lookin' like a sexy Jaguar to ya and I'll turn back into a rusty ol' truck with dented woodgrain side panels an' diamond wire welded to my back window." They were far from the glow of the pole-mounted lights now and she wondered if they could possibly be thinking the same thing.

Mater pulled her closer. "Yer nuts, but if yer worried about that then I'd better kiss ya before I come to my senses, huh?" He leaned forward but her lips had already found his.


	2. Pa Tireiron

Doreen hurried home in the dark, her worn tires feeling like they were floating far above the dirt road. The drive away from the races was normally a melancholy one because she was returning to another week of grueling, thankless work, but after she and Mater had kissed tonight, he'd told her he couldn't wait to see her again. The thought of spending the following Saturday night with him was going to make the week a whole lot easier.

She made her way into the ramshackle building she shared with her father and brothers and was relieved to find nobody else home. In a frenzy of motion she bagged up the ethanol cans that littered the kitchen, wiped grease off the table and scrubbed the dishes, then parked in her room for the night before her father and whichever of her brothers weren't incarcerated that weekend would inevitably wake her up. Predictably enough, around midnight they loudly stumbled into the doorframe and crashed their way through the house. She waited for them to find their way to their rooms and begin snoring before she fell back asleep and resumed dreaming.

In the morning she stood before the stove, stirring a mixture of apples and spices on the griddle and thinking dreamily of how long she and Mater had kissed before she'd finally insisted on running home. The breakfast smelled delightful to her, and after the wonderful night she'd had, it was as if everything around her was aglow. Her brothers crowded into the kitchen and stared dubiously at the food she'd dished up, and from their reaction she knew her morning was about to take a turn for the worse, as it usually did.

"Aw shit, Doreen," said Clyde, her oldest brother. "Last time I checked we're trucks, an' trucks don't eat apples. Where the hell's the oil and gas?"

"It's still at the station, 'cause there wasn't any money left after yer boozin' to buy real food, as ya call it." Doreen could hold her own against her siblings. "Apples won't hurt ya. I didn't even hafta steal 'em this time. Farmer Duncan said I could have all the ones that were left over after the harvest."

"Iffen ya'd spend more time at yer job and less time pickin' up useless apples maybe we could eat right!" growled Doug, frowning at his plate.

"I worked fifty hours this week, fercryinoutloud! I'm the only one in this family that's gotta real job. An' that's in addition to cleanin' up after ya'll and—" Doreen's shouting was interrupted when a plate shattered against the wall near the stove, apples dripping down the stained and faded wallpaper.

"Who the hell did that?" she snarled, dropping the spatula and turning around. Toby was the only one without a plate in front of him anymore, and after an exchange of angry words they were wrestling on the floor. Pa Tireiron ate his breakfast while watching his progeny fight with disinterest. This had been happening since they were young and he rarely did anything to stop it.

Doreen won the fight in short order and her brother slunk back to the table. The family patriarch had been disappointed when his late wife had borne him a light-duty truck after all her brothers had been large pickups, but his only daughter had proven her strength in due time. He recalled sending her out on the first day of school wearing a set of retread tires handed down from her brothers, only to have her chased home by the older Socketwrench boys from down the road. They often made fun of the Tireiron family's poverty, and couldn't wait to beat on their newest target. Doreen had begged to be let indoors away from the bullies, but he had coldly slammed the door on her with an order to defend herself, then ignored the sounds of a scuffle outside. When he had opened the door a second time, his daughter was dented and scraped and he was about to berate her for losing the fight until he caught sight of the bullies laid out across the front lawn. Since then, he'd had a modicum of respect for her and had even let her finish high school up to the last year, when he'd pulled her out to become the family's primary wage-earner.

"Got yer tailgate kicked by yer sister agin," he sighed, swatting Toby with his antenna. "Pathetic." He addressed Doreen, "Clean up that mess on the wall and git over here an' eat. Yer shift at the factory starts soon enough." Doreen complied, for she much preferred sweating a Sunday afternoon away hauling heavy iron parts off the conveyor belts than dealing with the traffic wreck that was her home.

* * *

"Ya'll be forced to meet my family soon enough," she warned Mater bluntly at the arena when Saturday had blessedly rolled around again. "My pa's a real mean ol' crank. He didn't used to be that way, though." They were parked in a dugout inside the fenced area, adjacent to the track so Mater could dart out and rescue any stranded vehicles without stalling the race longer than necessary. Doreen leaned happily against him, noticing he enjoyed the contact. She was grateful he'd brought her down here, as she had never witnessed a race this close before. The ground trembled when the cars blazed past them, more so than it had up by the grandstand where the other Pit Girls were parked.

"I've heard of him. Didn't he own the Quick Gas on Tractorpath Road? When I was a kid I loved that radio jingle." He grinned, and began to sing as he reminisced, "We've got leaded and diesel and white gas too, so get some of our fuel in youuu…"

Doreen grinned back at him briefly, then her voice grew wistful. "Yep, that was it and that station was my old man's greatest joy. He was damn proud of makin' money to keep his eight kids in tires and doin' somethin' right in life. He weren't ever the same again after they tore it down to make way for the Interstate, and that was a decade ago." True, Pa Tireiron had tried to keep plugging away with a job at the factory, but he found it increasingly harder to put in a hard day's work when he spent his nights drinking and mourning the loss of his livelihood. When Doreen was old enough, he had her take over the shift. She had the strength for it, but more importantly, she was his only child accountable enough to show up on time and keep the job.

"The Interstate commission really hosed him when they paid for the property, too," she added, "but he coulda done somethin' with what he had left and relocated. He coulda done a lotta things."

"Sounds like he _has_ done a lotta things," Mater reminded her cautiously. "He's always in the paper fer gittin' busted for somethin' or other and gittin' hauled off to jail."

"Yeah. It was hard go to school with my cab held high once those accounts started gittin' printed. I'd probably have quit if he didn't up and force me to anyway. Not long after we lost the station he turned his attention to more imaginative ways of makin' money, and he roped all of us in." Her mind flashed back to the day he'd taken her to have the protective diamond wire welded over her back window. At the time she'd thought it was distinctive, but her high school classmates soon let her know how unchic it really was. Soon after that, he'd sent her on the first of many anxious midnight runs across the desert, her bed covered with a tarp that hid the volatile chemicals he'd ordered her to procure. She hated the process of cooking up drugs in the kitchen with her brothers while her father oversaw their work, right down to the pungent smells and the fear that their house could be transformed into an inferno with the slightest mistake. She similarly despised the petty thefts she was forced to commit, the lies she had to tell to cover her brother's tracks and, worst of all, the times she had screwed up. Like all the others, she'd spent a few nights in the county lockup, and while those had not been terribly unpleasant, being released to her family sure had been. For a Tireiron, it was nothing to break any law you desired, but it made all the difference if you were stupid enough to get caught.

Mater impetuously wrapped his tow cable around her, hugging her closer to him. She didn't object, nor did she care if anyone stared at them.

"Someday, I'm gonna take ya away from all that," he promised in a low voice, then sadly realized that his shack and junkyard were hardly an improvement from what she had now.

"And I'd happily come with ya," she sighed, "but my pa would kill the both of us."

* * *

Pa Tireiron faced his boys as they gathered around the kitchen table, the place he always summoned his brood when he had serious words for them.

"At the bar tonight I got word of someone who got himself caught stealin' from the corner store. Care to fess up?" The ethanol on his breath wafted across the kitchen to them. The news had so enraged him that he'd left in a fury, though he'd told his children he planned on staying until last call.

The boys looked around nervously. "Think I heard it was _you_, Hunter." The pickup gulped frantically, wondering how his father managed to find out every misdeed his children committed. As Pa Tireiron glared at him with a crazed gleam in his eye, Hunter blurted out the first thing he could think of that would divert his father's attention.

"Doreen's screwin' around with a tow truck!" he cried, more than willing to sacrifice his sister if it meant saving himself. "All my friends said they done saw her at the races with him last week, all over him, kissin' and stuff. An' she's there now!"

An unreadable look spread across his father's face as his eyes grew wide, but he didn't seem to be about to explode in all-out fury like his son had expected. "A tow truck, you say?"

"Yessir," replied Hunter, wheeling backwards several feet.

"Git outta the house, all of ya." The boys did as they were told, peeling off in various directions. Pa Tireiron stewed at the table, considering where everything could lead.

* * *

"That's it for the night, folks! Ya'll come back next week!" signed off the announcer as the overhead lights began to switch off. Doreen waited by the restroom for Tow Mater. His work was done for the weekend and he'd asked to drive her home. She flinched as she felt an unfamiliar truck brush up against her side, his touch lingering unpleasantly. The overpowering stench of ethanol, much more than she herself had consumed, emanated from his mouth as he moved closer.

"Hey, Harry, damn if it ain't one of them sleazy Pit Girls. Ya can do anything ya want with these rusty gals…their paint's not the only thing that's cheap." He reached out a tire toward her again, only to have it nearly knocked from its axle.

"Git off me!" Doreen growled, revving her engine. The larger pickup and his friend put themselves in reverse, leering at her as they departed.

"Them guys buggin' ya?" asked Mater, pulling up next to her.

"Not any more, I took care of 'em," Doreen assured him. "That's the kinda attention I've been gittin' ever since I came of age, all on account of my supposedly bein' easy. In all that time, I never had one single guy just ask me nicely until ya came along."

…_And now I'm all yours, soon as you realize it.

* * *

_

Mater was having a fantastic night, and it just kept getting better. As he left the races, proud to have Doreen at his side, he winked knowingly at Tommy Joe, who raised a tire in a good-luck gesture. Then, as he was about to kiss Doreen goodnight as they stood on her porch, she pulled him inside, offering the information that her father wouldn't be home for at least two hours. His mind thrilled at the possibilities as he followed her inside.

"It ain't much but it's home, sweet or otherwise," said Doreen as they rolled into the kitchen. She lit a small lantern on the table and began rummaging in a cooler. Mater couldn't see a refrigerator in the kitchen, but he had spotted one rusting away on the porch. Evidently the Tireirons had no electricity.

"Want some ethanol, or octane or—" Her words turned into a gasp of surprise when she once again found herself entwined in his tow cable, his lips already seeking hers. She promptly forgot about offering him a beverage.

It occurred to the tow truck as Doreen frantically kissed him, her breath hot on his front bumper, that she didn't seem to be trying very hard to dispel the rumors regarding her virtue. Neither that nor the fact that he'd only known this girl a week concerned him terribly, because what was happening between them was everything he had ever wanted. Her tires, one dripping with icy water from the cooler, felt wonderful clutched between his own. Mater had never embraced a girl so sensuously and he already had a good idea of how far she'd be willing to go. As he tightened his tow cable around her cab, he could feel the diamond wire and a small antenna he hadn't noticed before.

"Didn't notice ya had CB, babe."

He could feel her smile and unlock her lips from his just long enough to speak. "10-4, good buddy."

_CB slang, now that's sexy,_ he thought joyfully, reaching out for her. Her startled scream jolted him.

"Pa!" she cried, struggling to shake herself free from the loops of cable.

"Wha--?" Mater pulled back slightly but only succeeded in winding the cable tighter, and Doreen was tugged forward with him. In the flickering yellow light offered by the lantern, a burly and infuriated pickup glowered at them both.

"Hullo, I'm not interruptin' anythin', am I?" His confrontational greeting echoed off the walls and the two trucks froze while he chuckled unpleasantly. "Nope, just my daughter whorin' about with some fella she just met. Really, Doreen, ya coulda waited 'til ya got to know this guy—it's Mater, right?--a little better. It took yer ma and me a whole two weeks before—"

"Pa, stop!" she cried, leaning against Tow Mater for support. She whispered, "Yer tow hook's caught—"

"I oughtta just kill the two of ya now while ya can't get away," he said, as if bored. "Though that'd be a waste, seein' as yer a damn strong truck and maybe not a bad match for my daughter, providin' that's what she wants in life." He turned to Mater. "Still, ya should know there's a price ya gotta pay if ya want to be mixin' with our family." The tow truck couldn't will himself to move. "'Taint nothin' terribly bad. It's just that we could use yer help with somethin' I got planned. Ya do love her, right?"

"Yessir," Mater's voice trembled.

"Then git yer grubby tires off her and listen up good. I'll cut ya a deal: ya play yer cards right and ya and Doreen kin be together."

Under her father's hateful gaze the entire time, Mater finally succeeded in reeling in his tow hook and he and Doreen listened to the evil that Pa Tireiron had in mind. Their hearts sunk, for turning the kitchen into a drug lab seemed mild compared to the horrific plot he unfolded before them.


	3. Not the Kind of Girl You'd Take Home

"The name's Monroe, by the way," said Pa Tireiron, as if he was casually introducing himself at a social event. Mater fervently wished he could hold Doreen to reassure her while her father detailed his plans, but he dared not touch her. He soon realized that Monroe's words were not merely drunken raving; he had put considerable thought into what he intended to do.

"For ten years I've driven past that Windshield mansion on my way home from the tavern, and damn if it don't stab me right through the heart to think that place was built with my money. I put two decades' of sweat and tears into runnin' my business and now it's a pile of rubble under the Interstate while Windshield and his wife are livin' all high and mighty in their fine house. Hell if we even got money to get the lights back on…"

Doreen recalled standing by her father the day the backhoe had broken through the first wall of his gas station, knocking out concrete blocks and revealing the snack bar where customers had gathered. For some reason, her father had not only insisted on witnessing the destruction of the building himself, he had ordered his children to be there as well. Dexter Windshield, the newly-appointed head of the county Interstate Commission, had been clearly uncomfortable with their presence.

The finality of what was happening had been unmistakable. As the machine munched his way through the center of the structure, bringing down entire walls, her father's eyes had flooded with tears. He had been too distraught in the store's final days to even salvage any mementoes of what he'd been about to lose, and as the last wall gave way she caught a glimpse of the "Proud to be at your service with a smile for two generations" banner snagged momentarily on the backhoe's shovel.

She had been able to watch no more, and had excused herself. One by one her brothers had done the same, but Pa Tireiron stayed until the entire structure had been collapsed into its basement and rolled over. He had come home a different truck, as if he had left the better part of himself buried with the rubble. That night he had started drinking.

"…So I got to thinkin' that it's time to set things right. I'm takin' back what shoulda been mine all along." Slowly and methodically, Monroe described what was going to happen. Doreen was going to disarm the outdated security system that kept the doors to the home safe from intruders, and he had already investigated on his own and learned the tall stone fence around the property was not alarmed. Her brothers were to cut the power and phone lines to the house so they could enter under the cover of darkness and thus not let the Windshields discover who the invaders were. Mater, as the strongest member of the group, would corner the couple and keep them contained in their living room while the rest of the Tireirons helped themselves to whatever they wished. No one was to speak once inside, lest their voices be recognized.

"That means yer not gonna hurt 'em?" Doreen asked fearfully. She had nothing against the older sedan couple and felt no malice when passing their palatial home. Just as it was some cars' lot in life to rust while others stayed shiny, she had accepted the possibility that perhaps the Windshields had been destined to make their fortune quickly as those around them struggled. Besides, the couple had taught her church-school class years ago when her mother had still been alive and had thought it important that her children attend such things. The sedans had been struggling to run a small business in Radiator Springs and were as penniless as her own family back then, but their simple conviction in what they believed had never left Doreen's mind.

"Don't count on it," replied Monroe uncaringly. "If they put up a fight they'll get what's comin' to 'em. We're bringin' along crowbars and our trademark tireirons. Besides, takin' their fancy stuff ain't the real aim of this mission."

He raised a tire threateningly at her and said with eerie calm, "It's called an eye fer an eye. Before we leave we're gonna burn the place down right before _their_ eyes." Doreen felt as though she'd been struck broadside and the shadows in the kitchen danced crazily as the oil lantern sputtered.

"Supposin' I refuse?" Mater interjected, finally regaining his courage. "Ya already admitted I'm the strongest truck of all of us and what's to stop me and Doreen from bustin' the hell outta here, runnin' away together and leavin' ya to yer own crazy notions?" His sides moved in deep breaths; never before had he uttered such a challenging statement.

Monroe turned to him, grim amusement in his voice. "Ya think I don't know who the hell ya are? Ya work at the Rustbucket and ya hail from that dump they call Radiator Springs. Seems I recall ya have yer closest relation livin' in town…think her name is Lizzie and she's yer Great-Auntie or something along those lines?" Mater's mouth hung open in shock. "Nice ol' lady, but she's gettin' up there in years and her memory is startin' to go. Bet she'd have a hard time watchin' her back 'gainst anything unexpected, and it sure'd be a shame if something happened to her."

"You wouldn't," Tow Mater felt his engine racing. The previous assaults that had sent Monroe to jail flashed through his mind, and he knew the pickup would keep his word if he and Doreen left the shack without agreeing to helping with the break-in.

"I'm in," said Doreen morosely, not daring to look at her father.

"Guess I ain't got no choice about it, either."

"Good. Then I don't need to tell ya what'll happen if word of this gits around. I got an alibi for ya two the night of the break-in and yer gonna like it, but fer now ya can help by stakin' out the mansion and seein' the alarm system fer yerselves."

* * *

The following weekend after Mater had ended his shift at the races, he and Doreen stalked across the lawn of the Windshield estate, past large statues from which water flowed. They had silently entered through an iron gate at the rear of the property, which a household servant must have left unsecured. Doreen cautiously surveyed the many large windows. All were dark, and she assumed the Windshields were asleep or perhaps even away for the weekend. She felt strange invading the grounds of her former teachers, as if her heart was not heavy enough with guilt over the way Mater, who had always struck her as carefree and easygoing, had been pulled unwillingly into the vicious plot. 

"Don't worry, babe," Mater tried to assure her, "if we hafta do this we hafta, but it's the lesser of two evils if Lizzie don't get hurt. It's _things_ gittin' wrecked, not cars. Besides, if I'm in charge of watchin' them Windshields, I'll keep anyone from hurtin' 'em." He only wished he could believe his own words. He knew as well as anyone that as soon as the Tireiron boys dumped gas around the house, it would be a miracle if someone didn't end up immolated along with the structure.

They reached a ground-level window overlooking the backyard. "Boost ya up?"

Doreen cautiously balanced her rear tires on Mater's hood to peer inside the glass. He tried not to stare at her tailgate as she peered inside. She was startled to see the couple inside what had to be their sleeping room, illuminated by the sparse glow of a candle on a nearby table. Almost as soon as she'd taken a look, she braked, flooding his eyes with blinding red light.

"Help me down!" she hissed, scrambling back to level ground. "They're not only home, they're in there. They didn't see me but we'd better leave."

"What were they doin' if they didn't see ya?" Mater asked in a hushed tone as they rushed to the other end of the building.

"Pretty much what ya and I were ready to do before my pa interrupted us," she replied, a blush spreading across her hood. Now Doreen felt utterly low, and not merely because she'd witnessed what should have been an intimate moment between two lovers that was never meant to be seen by a prowler like herself. "That just goes to show ya, they might be rich but they're not really any different from us. I don't know how I'm gonna bring myself to do this."

Later, she studied the outdoor control panel for the alarm system and found that it was less sophisticated than the one Monroe had taught her how to disarm the night they'd broken into the auction barn. As she worked, Doreen tried to push the image of the couple from her mind but found it impossible. Her father and brothers may have lusted after the Windshield's fine possessions, but there was only one thing the sedans had that she wanted.

* * *

Finally, on a hot July night about a month after they had first met, Tow Mater and Doreen pulled into the gravel lot of the Starlite Motel, a strip of forsaken little hovels lined up outside a cabin that served as the office. The garish neon of the marquee blinked overhead, boasting to travelers of the amenities at their disposal: TV, "refrigerated air," and vacancy. In its heyday the Starlite had accommodated families vacationing along Route 66, and as testament to its past glory a rusted playground still stood in the overgrown lot. In more recent years the motel had fallen from splendor and had become well-known as a place where tawdry affairs were carried out. 

"C'mon, it's now or never," said Doreen, clutching Mater's tire. The night of the break-in was finally upon them, and Monroe had ordered them to check in at the motel as if they were just another couple seeking a room for a cheap tryst. _I only wish we could stay instead of carrying out the rest of his plans,_ she thought wistfully.

They entered the office and a Chevette glanced away from the lurid late-night program he'd been watching on a black-and-white television. He surveyed them with boredom and took a swig of a canned beverage he kept on the counter. Behind him, beetles struggled on a sticky yellow strip suspended from the ceiling.

"You want a room for the whole night?" he chortled. "Sorry, that joke never gets old."

"If ya got one, we'll take it. I don't hardly care which one," said Doreen, leaning against Mater and brushing a tire along his fender. "Check in don't take long, does it? We're kinda in a hurry." Her words had their desired effect on the clerk and he grimaced in disgust before accepting her money and handing her a key.

"The refrigerated air in your room doesn't work," he said, shrugging.

"That's fine, hon. Thanks!" She winked at him. Once outside, they located their room and stood facing each other for a moment, bathed in the orange light from the sign.

"Ya ready?" asked Tow Mater, barely waiting for Doreen to reply before shoving her backwards against a nearby ice machine and kissing her roughly. Though this was all being done to complete the illusion that they were staying overnight at the Starlite, Mater was enjoying it guiltlessly. From Doreen's sigh of pleasure, he knew she wasn't acting either. She had been so anxious about the break-in that she hadn't let him touch her since the first night at her house.

"I love ya," she said, flexing her frame against his.

"Hey!" an angry voice floated across the lot. "You paid for your room so why the hell don't you use it instead of carrying on outside and breaking my damn ice machine!" The Chevette shook a tire at them in frustration and retreated to his office, grumbling, and Mater led Doreen into their room, unable to stop grinning. The clerk wouldn't forget them now, and that was important.

The aroma of flowery air freshener did little to mask the musty odor in the room. Tow Mater pulled the hideous plastic drapes closed, eyeing his surroundings. Unattractive paintings hanging on the walls overlooked scuffed furniture. Doreen parked at the sink, splashing water on her face and drying off with a ratty towel. The tow truck nudged her tailgate and she turned to him.

"I love ya too," he said, desire evident in his words. He resumed what he'd started in the parking lot, knowing they had to be on the road soon, and as one thing led to another they were soon beyond the point where they'd been a month ago.

"Doreen, this might be the last chance we have to be together in a long time. If anythin' goes haywire durin' the break-in, I might never see ya again."

"I don't want to think about that," she whispered, as one of his tires slid teasingly along her side. They were locked in a kiss by the time he dipped his tire below the edge of her frame, moving across the contours of her undercarriage. The tow truck felt his partner's engine trembling. _She's just as tense as I am,_ Mater thought.

A sharp knock at the window startled both of them, and they composed themselves before opening the door.

"Well, if it ain't about time ya'll got yerselves a room!" greeted Tommy Joe, lugging in a case of ethanol without being invited. He was followed by a sleek, fancy model of a car that Doreen recognized as a real Jaguar. She glanced at Mater, feeling inferior, but he paid the sports car little heed.

"Meet Chrissi," Tommy Joe said, "and don't worry; we'll get our own room in a coupla minutes. I just thought I recognized ya pullin' into the lot before us. Ya ever taken a gal here before, Mater? Too bad ya got the room with the broken air."

Mater rolled his eyes. "Actually, Tommy Joe, we was just leavin'." He tossed the key to his perplexed cousin. "Ya got yerself a free room fer the night so use it well. Leave the key in here when ya clear out in the mornin'." As he pulled Doreen hurriedly out of the room and they left the motel behind, he wondered just how many times Tommy Joe had brought one of his girlfriends to this motel. He tried to imagine the racecar running into the Jaguar and couldn't.

He called Sheriff on his CB radio and requested that he keep an eye on Lizzie's home all night. "I can't tell ya why, but ya gotta trust me and watch for anythin'," he insisted.

"And don't ya worry," he told Doreen, "we'll find time to ourselves soon enough."


	4. Paradise by the Dashboard Light

_**Author's Note:** This chapter contains strong adult content. If you'd prefer not to read it, by all means skip it and resume with Chapter 5. You'll be able to tell what happened from context._

_Life Is A Highway66, thank you so much for the kind reviews!

* * *

_

"Git yer headlights off! We don't want anyone seein' us from the road," called Doreen as they turned off the dirt road and onto the narrow and pitted driveway leading to the Tireiron family shack. The front door creaked as she swung it open and held it back for Mater to pass through. They were entering an empty house, of course. The others were already en route to a roadside tavern near the mansion, where they would bide their time until she had the security system down at 1 a.m. sharp.

The door swung shut on her tailgate, causing the screen to tear, then she fell against Mater as they fumbled in the darkness. The power had been shut off ages ago and her brothers hadn't thought to leave out a candle where she could find it. Giving up on a light source, Doreen relied on memory and rustled through Clyde's toolbox for the items she would need to do the job. As she stuffed them into a sack, her tires shook. _There._ Everything she needed was by the front door.

"We got twenty minutes 'till we hit the road, Mater." Her voice sounded pitifully weak. She had felt hopelessness many times before but never had she felt so downright…damned. Once she'd accomplished her part of tonight's mission, she would truly have become everything she hated and had spent her whole life trying to avoid.

Mater knocked over a small piece of furniture – he wasn't sure what -- and brushed against her again in the murky darkness. "Yer shiverin', Doreen." The tow truck rolled forward and locked a front tire with his girlfriend's, pulling her against him reassuringly. He could tell this was a different kind of unease than she'd shown when they'd fooled around back at the motel.

"Yeah, it's nerves. I don't wanna pull off this break-in crap but damned if I don't gotta. _We_ gotta." Her voice trailed off as she moved away, then he heard a hiss as she opened a can of ethanol in the kitchen. "It's room temperature, but ya want any?"

They took several cans and made their way to her tiny room at the back of the house, the only light to guide them coming through the filthy windows, from a sliver of moon overhead and some fireflies flitting about the overgrown lawn. They drank the ethanol with grim determination, trying to steel their nerves but not talking much. Mater dropped the last empty can and it clattered to the floor near the faded quilt Doreen slept on.

"There, we both had some booze. We can't go anywhere _now_, can we? It'd be drinkin' and driv—" Doreen's desperate rambling was cut off by a kiss from Mater, and not an innocent one like they'd shared at the track.

"Yer sweatin' somethin' awful," he said softly, running a tire along her side as she leaned into his touch. Powerful feelings were welling up within her, and she knew they had nothing to do with the heist. Giving in to them, Doreen rested both front tires on Mater's bumper, bringing herself up higher to kiss him more deeply. She flinched as his tires slid along her front axle.

"Ah…we'd better knock it off, we gotta git goin'—" she said, still trying to persuade herself they'd be on the road any minute now. His kisses grew more aggressive in response. _Dammit…_

Tow Mater's mind was racing as he struggled with the same conflict as Doreen. She clearly shared his idea right now, and yet very soon they had to get out there and break every law in the books…didn't they? He stroked her fender as she clung to him. Mater suddenly felt very protective of Doreen and decided, once and for all, that damned if either of them were going to be part of her father's crazy and dangerous plan.

_We shoulda been outta here already. If we leave real soon and ignore the speed limit, we could still make it there on time. _The pickup stubbornly tried to focus on the steps that would be necessary to bring down the alarm system instead of where Mater's tires were meandering, but finally surrendered those thoughts to feelings of pleasure.

_Aw hell, I'm so glad we're not goin' out there. I never wanted that anyway, I just want…_this. Doreen backed off a bit and looked over her fender as she felt a slight tug on her side, near the bottom of her door. Mater had slipped his tow hook just under the edge of her frame.

"Are ya _sure_ ya want to do this?" he asked, anticipation in his voice.

"Hell yeah." She practically breathed the words, surprised the moment had come so soon when they'd just started. A feeling of vertigo momentarily passed over her as she felt herself being carefully lifted.

In the near total darkness, Tow Mater had a sudden panicky thought that Monroe would happen upon them like they were now. There was a single doorway to the room they were in and it just led back to the narrow hallway. Mater found himself wishing Tommy Joe were there now – well, not _literally_ there now – but he did wish he had asked his cousin's advice on how to escape that situation if it happened. Tommy Joe, by his own admission, had fled from many angry fathers and jealous boyfriends. Mater tried to swallow his fear and he interlocked tires with Doreen as they moved together.

"Yer okay down there?" he asked tenderly, hoping he was doing everything alright and that she couldn't sense how unsure he felt. He could tell she was trying hard not to cry out.

"Mmn-hmm." Underneath him, Doreen had a rougher time of things. She gripped his tire treads with her own, supporting his weight as her roof rocked against the hard floor. Intense sensations surged through her but they were mixed with sharp pain and lingering guilt. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't be tempted to try and read the wobbling neon numbers on the bedside clock. When she was able to open them again, all else was forgotten and she watched Mater's form moving above her. Even though this was what years of rumors had her doing with every truck, car and semi in Carburetor County, this experience was altogether new to her, and it was amazingly wonderful despite the physical discomfort. Becky had warned her it could hurt, but Doreen had felt worse from all the hard knocks in life.

Their movement eventually slowed and Mater bent to kiss her before rolling back and helping her onto her wheels. For a brief time they rested, front tires clasped together. She was still trembling but no longer from anxiety.

Mater's breath caught in his throat. "Was it good for ya too?" he asked, his voice uncertain. That line had come from Tommy Joe. Among the other advice he'd given Tow Mater regarding matters of the heart, he'd insisted it was the most romantic thing you could ask a girl after lovemaking, and in fact if you neglected to ask it she'd be so offended she'd probably never want to be with you again.

Fortunately for Mater, Doreen was as unsophisticated in these matters as he was. "It was," she began, then truthfully added, "but it was a little awkward and it hurt some too. Ain't yer fault, it was me. Despite all the racy rumors ya might have heard, ya were my first."

"Oh." Mater was touched.

He felt her fender shrug as she snuggled against him. "What the hell, I'm sure it'll be better next time when I'm not so inexperienced."

_Next time?_ Had he heard that right? She wanted him again…

"How many times did ya do it before it got really good?" Mater felt his engine growing hot at her intimate question, then he grinned. It felt good to joke around again now that they were relieved from the pressure of having to take part in the break-in.

"Well, lemme see…there was that Corvette gal that done thrown herself at me, it took maybe three times with her …then there was those Beetle twins and then I think it went Datsun coupe, Mustang, Nova. What're we up to so far, six?"

As he continued, Doreen's jaw dropped low as a mental parade of her lover's previous partners passed by.

He continued, "And things got really good by the time I was with that hatchback chick, and even better by the time I moved on to the trucks. That cement mixer I nailed—"

The parade came to an instant halt. Doreen perked up and pounced against him hard, nearly knocking him sideways.

"Ya had me there, but ya sure as hell weren't with no cement mixer!" She tried not to laugh, so ridiculous was his bragging. "Why couldn't ya have just been serious for once and admitted this was yer first time too?" Mater only snickered as she had him pinned, and then when she was caught off guard laughing, he wriggled himself free just enough to pull her down against him.

…She was right. The second time turned out to be better.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** For those hoping to read a super-romantic love scene only to find that this chapter read more like the awkward stuff in a Judy Blume novel, sorry. I was aiming for realism. No flaming for content, please!_

_...Just be glad the phrases 'dadgum' and 'git-r-done' were never uttered in this chapter. :)_


	5. Her Father's Daughter

Monroe and his sons waited impatiently by the iron gate at the edge of the Windshield property, hearing water splashing from the fountains beyond.

"It's ten minutes _past_. I can't believe that tow truck split on us." Monroe kicked a tire at the ground in frustration before gathering his resolve. "No matter, we kin still do this without him, it just won't be so fortunate fer the Windshields. Ya boys do whatever ya hafta to keep 'em from gittin' an eyeful of us or gittin' in the way. A good smack with a crowbar and they'll be keepin' their distance."

"What about them alarms?" asked Toby, gazing at the darkened windows and doors that were supposed to have been rendered vulnerable, providing his sister had already been there. His father narrowed his eyes.

"They're down," he said. "I know my own daughter well enough. She said she'd have 'em down at 1 a.m. sharp, then she's been here early and gotten 'em down. Though I'm sure ya saw how she got when we said we'd burn the house to the ground; she done backed outta that part the same as Mater did. She's probably whorin' around with that truck again and I'll let 'em both have it right after I take care of his Auntie. This is gonna be a damned long night for me."

Entirely confident in his words, Monroe swaggered across the lawn, followed by the sons he'd molded to follow his every command. The boys moved slowly, weighted down by the multiple jugs of gasoline in their beds. They'd collectively brought enough fuel to keep the house ablaze for a week.

He was still assured Doreen had reluctantly but dutifully obeyed his orders right up to the moment when Clyde cut the first wire to the house and shrill alarms exploded everywhere. The iron gates slammed tightly shut and the expanse of the property was bathed in ghastly white light.

"That bitch double-crossed us!" he shrieked.

* * *

Tow Mater embraced Doreen tightly for a long time afterward, still taking in what had happened between them. They were both exhausted but rest was not to be theirs anytime soon. 

"I guess ya could say we done sealed our fate," Doreen said, "we sure can't stay here much longer." After kissing her lover, she gathered up the ethanol cans and took them to the kitchen. She swept through the house, putting away the tools she'd dumped by the front door and bundling into her quilt a few scant possessions worth taking along. Once those were secured in her bed, she didn't look behind her as they left the shack and pulled onto the highway.

The mansion was looming up ahead, and she regretted there was no other road to reach Radiator Springs that bypassed it. Well before they reached the gates, the wail of multiple alarms assaulted their ears. Her curiosity piqued, Doreen wondered why her father would have progressed with the invasion even after it should have been apparent that she'd bowed out. A lump formed in her throat as she saw lights blinking on inside the mansion and she hoped the Windshields were still safe inside.

Mater rolled slowly past the gate, peering past it. Monroe was immediately on the other side, rattling it frantically.

"Ya pull this gate down now and I won't stop ya from bein' with Doreen," he begged, resignation in his unsteady voice.

Mater eyed him brazenly. "Mr. Tireiron, I'm with Doreen _now_ and ya ain't _ever_ gonna stop me." Betrayed, the pickup stood flanked by his sons, who were loudly protesting and shouting at their sister. The tow truck had a feeling he should quit while he was ahead, but seeing the truck who had humiliated him trapped and rendered helpless struck a nerve. "Thanks fer settin' us up in that motel room, that was right nice of ya." He ended the insult with a kiss to Doreen that was almost lascivious, leaving Monroe no doubt as to what had transpired during his absence.

The pickup snarled at his daughter now that he had nothing to gain by being kind. "_You_, yer nothin' but a lowlife tramp. I disown ya and everything ya stand for. How could ya betray yer own flesh and blood?" He spat through the fence for effect, striking her windshield.

Doreen wiped roughly across her eyes, unfazed. She stood tall on her worn tires, and in the dim light Mater could see the resemblance between her and Monroe. Police sirens were already audible and growing closer.

"I'll tell ya how. I am my father's daughter," she said icily, then drove off with Mater.

* * *

Early the next morning, Doreen rolled into the office of the Starlite after making sure Tommy Joe and Chrissi had vacated the room she and Mater had rented. It hardly seemed like she'd been in this very building only a few hours before. The Chevette crunched into a donut and rose stiffly on his tires to pour himself a cup of octane. He'd had a long and uneventful night. 

"I'm awful sorry 'bout gittin' carried away out there last night and almost wreckin' yer ice machine," she said contritely. She was sore and ached everywhere, but the afterglow had not faded. "An' I got so swept away I done locked the key in the room, so sorry 'bout that as well."

"I've got a spare on my ring somewhere. Hope you and your boyfriend had a fun night, because you sure look like you've been through a lot. Now why don't you scram so I can finish my breakfast. Oh, and don't be a stranger, come back next time and keep us in business." Smiling despite herself at his gruff manner, Doreen turned to leave when the lonely clerk caught her attention again.

"Um, don't take this the wrong way, but if things don't work out between you and that truck and you'd ever like to be with a 'Vette, you know where I am," he offered cautiously. Entirely perplexed and exhausted, Doreen blushed and returned to Tow Mater's side. They were finally free to go home.

They had no sooner slunk back to his shack and fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep than a fleet of county police cars pulling into the lot awoke them. Sheriff drove alongside them, his feelers bobbling as he bumped over the grounds of the junkyard. He was panting heavily, infuriated that a resident of his own town had a possible connection to what was Carburetor County's first attempted, but blessedly failed, arson and double homicide. As if to confirm his worst suspicions, the truck who had to be Doreen was waking up groggily beside Mater.

* * *

"So you're telling me, son, that you took Doreen to the Starlite because her father had caught you together once before, and then you snuck back here?" asked Sheriff, glowering at the tow truck he had long considered his son. He had guided Mater since his early youth after it had become apparent that his own folks had little aptitude for the job. 

"I just put in a call to the motel's manager," offered one of the police cars before the tow truck could answer. "He sure remembered them. Said something about them almost getting kicked out for some shenanigans in the parking lot, then they left the room all neat this morning with a pyramid of empty ethanol cans by the door." This girl herself even came in early to apologize for locking the key inside," the officer continued, and Doreen said a silent goodbye to the last vestiges of her virtue. "Not to mention the cars in the adjacent rooms complained in the morning about the disco music they blasted all night." His eyes twinkled as he shared that last tidbit with the group.

_Tommy Joe, you freak,_ thought Mater, though he dared not smile until he found out how this was going to play out.

"I can't speak for your morals, missy, but I think you are telling us the truth about your lack of involvement in this," said the county sheriff, eyeing the bedraggled pickup.

By the time they left the couple in Sheriff's care, it was evident to the county police that the trucks had simply thrown caution to the wind and had a night of debauchery, unaware that the rest of Doreen's family had been making a simultaneous, ill-fated attempt to settle an old score. They had already interviewed the other Tireirons at the county jail, but had only gotten a round of tires pointed in blame at each other. Monroe had insisted that his daughter and Mater were just as guilty, though there was no proof they'd ever left the motel.

Once they were alone, Sheriff addressed them, disappointment in his voice. "This still leaves the question of what did transpire between you two." Mater caught his gaze but Doreen only looked at the floor. "Son, you've been an adult for some time so I can't forbid you from doing anything that's not against the law, and I sure can't stop you from falling in love, but you'd better realize what you're getting into." Sheriff resisted the urge to blame Doreen, for knowing Mater, it was just as likely that he had initiated their affair. He rolled toward the exit, adding in a low voice, "I hope you at least used some measure of protection."

Tow Mater resented Sheriff's implication that he had been irresponsible.

"We sure did, Doreen done locked the door," came the tow truck's response.

Sheriff's engine skipped a cycle.

* * *

"So we finally get to meet your Jaguar," said Ramone incredulously as the rusty pickup wearily pulled into the lot of the V8 café at dinnertime. They were enjoying a small spike in business; Tommy Joe, Chrissi, and Becky had come over to lend their support after hearing about the arrest of Doreen's entire family. Whiling away the time until the pickup returned from work and finding it impossible to stay serious for long, Ramone and the boys had been crushing empty ethanol cans against their hoods, much to the displeasure of his wife, Flo, the café's owner. 

"Pleased to meet ya," Doreen greeted the lowrider, who sported a handsome red and white paint scheme. She nuzzled Mater lovingly, then eyed the crushed cans. She felt her usual spunky spirit returning even after the dramatic turn her life had taken overnight, though she wished her energy would follow suit. "That old game? Ya just wait until I finish my first drink and I'll show ya how it's really done."

"Ain't she cute?" gushed Tow Mater moments later as Doreen crushed a can directly against her windshield. Flo narrowed her eyes in dismay. It was bad enough that her husband had gotten drawn into Mater's silly stunts, but Doreen was striking her as downright uncouth. She was relieved when Ramone approached Sheriff at the far end of the café, putting some distance between himself and the younger vehicles.

Tommy Joe squinted at his cousin's fatigued girlfriend. "Dang, did Mater keep ya out late smashin' mailboxes?" Before Doreen could answer, Mater interjected.

"Ya might say the mailboxes of Carburetor County are safe for another night. I was _thinkin'_ of goin' out last night but this babe here sorta distracted me and we stayed in," he said with pride, slapping his tow hook possessively against Doreen's tailgate.

"Hey!" she sputtered. "Why don't ya just climb right on top of that plateau up there and shout it out to the whole world?" She jabbed a tire in the direction of the landmark rock formation that bore the town's initials. Mater hadn't realized she would get annoyed with him for telling their closest friends about the best night he'd ever had. He apologized but the girls were already pulling Doreen aside.

"So," said Chrissi, "You left the Starlite but you still—"

"The Starlite? You went _there_?" asked Becky incredulously. Her friend sighed.

"Now that this lugnut's gone and told ya, there's no sense in denyin' it. We wound up at my house, no one was home, and—"

"He nailed you something good," Chrissi finished bluntly, in a departure from her usual more eloquent manner of speaking. "Sweetie, I haven't known Mater that long but my guess is you're the first girl to make him this happy in a long time. Good for you, but it's only natural that he's going to brag about what happened." Doreen glanced back at Mater and Tommy Joe and hoped they were discussing something no more intimate than can-crunching.

The Jaguar was a few years older than the two Pit Girls, but she clearly had more experience than both of them combined. "This isn't easy to say, but you're going about this all wrong. The sooner you accept that you're just another notch in his fan belt, the quicker you can get the stars out of your eyes and just enjoy it while it lasts. That's what I've been doing for years. I'm only in town until the end of summer, visiting a relative, and when I leave Tommy Joe and I will move on. He knows it, I know it and we're both okay with that. I think he even likes that arrangement better." She eyed the racecar seductively from a distance.

"If that's what ya want," Becky said in disagreement, then realized she wasn't a much better example. Her on-again, off-again fiancé had yet to make a real commitment, yet she kept returning to him. "Some of us are lookin' fer something that lasts a little longer." She resented Chrissi's casual attitude toward something she regarded as sacrosanct.

"Mater and I are not gonna leave each other fer _nothin'_," Doreen insisted. Her anger replaced with sudden concern, she hurried back to Mater. "I ain't mad no more and I ain't ashamed either. It's just that what happened between us was beautiful and private, and we don't hafta tell just anyone 'bout it." It was growing late, and she felt heavy on her tires from exhaustion. They bade their friends goodnight and headed home.

"Congratulations on _hookin' up_ with a tow truck!" Tommy Joe couldn't stop himself from yelling. Doreen shot him an evil glance as he chortled over his clever joke.

"So Mater likes 'em on the trashy side," said Ramone with appreciation after the two trucks left. "Who would've known?"

"She's not the kinda girl I'd take home," Sheriff commented, watching Doreen leaning on Mater as they paused to talk to Lizzie in front of her store. He'd overheard enough between the tow truck and the racecar and was none too pleased.

"If your home was a junkyard, maybe you'd have a different perspective," quipped Flo.

"Coming from a former showcar, that wasn't very nice," said Ramone, nuzzling her. His wife stood by her words.

"Back then, we traveling showcars may have been feisty and wild, but we also took pride in having style and class. We always left our admirers wanting more and never getting it, except for a certain body-shop owner I remember driving mad with desire. She's just giving it away for free."

* * *

"My father and brothers are safely tucked in jail, Lizzie's in no danger and we're free to do whatever the hell we want," pondered Doreen, playfully dodging Mater's advances as they stood parked in his shed that night. 

"Right. Whatever we darn well please, and I won't kiss an' tell no more," he agreed, snagging her with his hook and pulling her close to him. The headlights of a passing vehicle played across the open shack, causing his girlfriend to become self-conscious.

"Damn, Mater, this ain't very private. At least my old house had _walls_, even if they were full of holes and stuffed with newspaper." The tow truck grinned, seeing she had a point. He hadn't considered that when he had built his home. He had long preferred sleeping in the open air and wasn't as comfortable confined in a tight space.

"Oh, so my place suddenly ain't good enough for ya?" he said, pretending to be hurt as he towed her from their cramped quarters. "Maybe we'll go find someplace better!" He pulled Doreen past the aisles of stacked auto parts. "Ya just say when!"

"Right here," she said with a smirk, and he lowered her wheels to the ground. They were in a secluded cove among the towering junk.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. I didn't stop ya from goin' pretty darn far that night we went home together, I let ya feel me up at a cheap motel, and we went all the way last night. So it's pretty insultin' that you'd accuse me of bein' too good to move in with ya." She would have continued, but Mater was already clutching at her with his tow hook.

Now unrestrained by other obligations, they were free to give themselves to each other without the self-consciousness that had intruded on their initial experience. As she lay on the cool ground, Doreen gazed lovingly at Mater against the background of the night sky. She moved languidly beneath him, trying to return at least as much pleasure as he was giving her, and they loved long into the night.

* * *

Mater woke his neighbors early the next morning by pounding sheets of corrugated metal into place along the beams of his shed, enclosing it. Flo and Ramone paused during their post-breakfast cruise and the lowrider nodded to his wife. 

"I told you they were doing it," he chuckled.


	6. You and Me Against the World

Tow Mater and Doreen might have continued forever in the blissful life they'd started together, but as the days went by, Doreen's exhaustion only became more pronounced, even after they'd reluctantly curtailed their nighttime activity. It hadn't taken long for guilt to set in over the way she'd turned in her family to the law, despite her bravado at the moment she had done so. The two forces worked together so that she was dragging more each day than the previous. She'd even nodded off at work more than once.

Sheriff watched her limp back to the V8 night after night, and he had studied her long enough to sense that there was yet another concern that was weighting her down, one that she had likely not admitted to Mater yet, let alone herself. His eyes narrowed as he noted how she moved more cautiously, her substitution of oil for her usual ethanol, and the way she often got distracted. He suspected the reason behind her change in behavior, but Mater seemed oblivious.

Though the tow truck hadn't any idea, Becky called her friend on it while they were in their usual space by the grandstand one weekend.

"Doreen, ya were never much fer kiddie drinks like oil, and suddenly yer drinkin' 'em like there's no tomorrow and turnin' down the good stuff." Her voiced dropped. "Do ya think yer…_in the family way_?" The rusty pickup bit the straw in her oil can, watching Mater down on the track, struggling to pull a stalled monster truck.

"Think so," she said softly. "I've been tryin' hard to hide it but I ain't been feelin' like myself lately." To her dismay, Chrissi turned to them, and the look on her face made it obvious she'd not only overheard but was eager for the opportunity to share her unwanted advice.

"You know there's a new dipstick test you can buy to find out for sure? Of course, you might be fine. Everyone knows you can't get pregnant your first time." She wasn't sure if that last part was true, but it was an empty reassurance anyway; she was delving for more information and waited for Doreen to respond.

"We made love twice," the pickup said, gritting her teeth, "and a few times in the days since. I am livin' with him, after all." Feigning concern, the Jaguar pressed for more details, disguising her remarks again.

"On your tires or off? Because, you know, your chances are less if you were upright."

Doreen naively took the bait again. "Off," she answered cautiously. The sportscar whistled.

"Really? You might as well consider yourself good and knocked up," she said, a touch of cruelty in her voice. "I'll tell you what I'd do if it were me." As the sportscar rambled on, Doreen sensed she'd been tricked into revealing details she needn't have and drove down to the pits in frustration, Chrissi's voice fading away behind her.

* * *

On a sultry August afternoon soon afterwards, Doreen had Mater wait outside the general store in her town while she whisked inside. She couldn't help but notice the large poster advertising the EZ Engine Koolant's sponsorship of the local Rustbucket racers hanging on the glass by the door. She had to admit it looked very professional and polished. Of course, she was nowhere to be found in the photo and Becky looked peeved. Mater parked by the vending machines, puzzled as to why they couldn't have picked up whatever it was she needed so much at Lizzie's shop. 

Approaching the pharmacy counter in the front of the store, she asked the clerk for a test, averting her eyes. She knew the hatchback behind the counter from her school days.

"Here ya go, and good luck with everything. Does he know yet?" the clerk asked, gesturing at the window, where Mater could be seen on the sidewalk, attempting to shake a loose bottle from the beverage machine.

"He's gonna soon enough," sighed Doreen, paying him and sliding the kit into a sack.

Soon after, she stood by Mater in his shack as they anxiously waited for the test to show its results. Doreen already knew full well what it was going to reveal sometime in the next half-hour, and it hadn't been cheap. She wouldn't have wasted her money had she not known Mater would want proof positive of what she could have just told him.

"Wow, I guess this changes everything," pondered the tow truck as they stared at the tiny screen on the test, which was still blank. "A little one we created. We sure got ourselves in deep for a summer romance, but at least now we'll always be together."

Doreen's engine flooded with emotion as she realized he evidently hadn't paid much attention during certain classes in school. Since she and Mater were both trucks and their reproductive processes were different from cars, there could be as many as six little ones born next spring. She was still planning the best way to break this latest startling revelation to him when she realized they were not alone. Swerving around, they caught sight of Sheriff, who stood behind them with a large rifle. He looked past them at the test.

"Mater, in light of what's happened I think it's high time you made an honest woman out of Doreen." Not daring to defy the only father figure in his life, the tow truck allowed himself to be led to the courthouse, hardly daring to believe what was happening.

* * *

Tow Mater stood before the raised bench as Doc glared down at him unsympathetically. Doreen was by his side, not quite touching him. The tow truck wanted to flee from the suffocating courtroom, but one of the parking boots from his own impound yard had been clamped tightly over his tire, reducing any ideas of escape to mere fantasy. Sweat dripped from his cab onto the dusty wooden floor, and she had a sheen of moisture over her own rusted paint. 

"This is the first ceremony like this I've done this in a long time," Doc said gruffly before opening a book before him. "Never thought I'd have to do one again, either." He shot a brief glance at the couple, who hadn't even had a chance to wipe away the dust from the desert roads. Obviously Sheriff had caught them off guard.

Doreen nudged Mater's tire as the older car began reciting the civil ceremony that would unite them in marriage, his words droning on in a monotone voice. Her hood was flushed and the fans overhead only pushed the stale air around. To be certain, she had dreamed of marrying Mater as soon as she'd fallen in love with him, but though her fantasies hadn't been very lofty, they hadn't been quite like this either. She'd known her own family would have no interest in attending her ceremony unless there was an open ethanol bar, but surely Becky would have come, as well as Tommy Joe and even Chrissi, providing the Jaguar wasn't too jaded to appreciate the commitment a wedding symbolized.

"I just wanted ya to know that I'd've married ya anyway, even if I hadn't, uh, knocked ya up." whispered Mater before Sheriff hushed him. The pickup felt a warmth spread through her engine. He had a knack for saying things in the least eloquent manner possible, but she knew his promise was sincere.

Their ceremony was mercifully brief, and soon Tow Mater was being asked if he would take Doreen as his lawfully wedded wife. Sheriff jabbed the rifle against his taillight for emphasis, but the gesture was unnecessary and Mater gave his answer. When Doreen followed suit, Doc pronounced them married, and then excused himself without apology.

"Sorry, son, but that needed to be done," Sheriff added, then left after the Hudson. The two trucks departed quickly from the stifling heat and out into the sunlight.

"So that was it, no rings or kiss or photos or cake," the tow truck mused during the short drive home, feeling wounded. "But at least we got each other and all that other stuff don't matter, an' we did git ourselves into this. Ain't like we can blame nobody else. Sometimes, though, it just feels like it's ya and me against the world, don't it?"

"We can't do anything right, can we?" she said dejectedly.

"Nope." He made Doreen wait in the junkyard while he rummaged through a supply of small parts. "I know this ain't much but it's the best I've got and I'd love fer ya to wear it," he said, holding up a small wingnut. Doreen dipped her antenna low and slid it on.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes misting over. She felt bad for her prior self-pity over something so trivial as who got to witness their wedding when Mater was going out of his way to be so kind. As they prepared to enter the shed, her new husband caught her on his tow hook, trying to make the best of the situation.

"Uh-uh," he chided, "it's bad luck unless the gentleman carries the lady over the threshold." He swung her forward until she was inside, then followed. "Dang, I love bein' a tow truck," he quipped, then slyly added, "I s'pose this _is_ our honeymoon, ya know…" Doreen didn't respond, and he realized she was still parked where he'd dropped her, staring at something. _The test._

"It's…negative?!" she asked in a whisper, then bolted from the shack, her eyes flooding with hot tears. "Dammit, I need some time alone!" Mater looked after her in befuddlement, for he had always found her stoicism comforting during difficult times and he hadn't seen her give in to dramatics before. He was unsure whether he should follow her against her wishes, but he finally opted to give Doreen her space.

* * *

Sheriff cleared his throat when he approached the shed, startling the despondent tow truck inside. He hadn't come to his decision to force this on the couple overnight and he'd even had second thoughts while holding the rifle in court. Mater had probably guessed it had been unloaded anyway. One look at the newlywed alone in his house cautioned him not to pry into Doreen's whereabouts or what might have made her leave. 

"C'mon, son, let's go down to the V8 and the drinks are on me tonight. You ought to at least have some fun on your wedding night."

* * *

Doreen threw herself down on the floor of the abandoned Tireiron shack, hating herself for crying, for worrying Mater with her flight from their home, but even more so for trapping him in a marriage he might not have wanted. She found two last cans of ethanol in the kitchen and downed them without satisfaction. 

_At least I can still have this,_ she thought grimly, tossing the empty can aside. _So I ain't pregnant, what a relief. I'm just horribly sick from something I can't identify and can't afford to see a doctor for._

Then another realization occurred. _Based on what that stuck-up Jaguar said, there's no reason why I should have gotten out of this so easy, unless...maybe I _can't_ give Mater any children, ever. _Her mind flashed back to the countless night runs she'd made for her father, carrying those accursed chemicals that he'd ordered her to bring home. There had been so many times she'd had to hose out her bed at the outdoor tap afterward, and every time she'd tried not to imagine to what she might have been exposed. _I probably screwed myself up just fine, but back then, wasn't it all just taking one more hit for the team?_

"Breaker, Jaguar," crackled a familiar voice over her CB radio. Her engine fluttered. "This is Blue. Got yer ears on?"

"10-4," she answered, her voice quavering. Mater didn't allow much silence to pass.

"Listen, babe, we can talk about all this but ya have to come home, _now_. I love ya." His voice was desperate. Doreen stammered a protest, but he cut her off impatiently.

"Ya don't understand. Sheriff and I were here at the V8 and we got word over the radio that yer pa done escaped from the jail tonight! He's gonna come after ya!" Doreen felt the oil throughout her body run cold.

"I'll be there in a flash," she said, but as she rushed for the exit a new transmission directly to her radio froze her in her tire tracks.

"Not so fast," the gravelly voice ordered, and she paused with one tire poised to shove open the door. In horror she realized she had heard the voice in stereo as her father emerged from one of her brothers' rooms. "Git away from the door," he snapped, and she complied out of habit. He advanced toward her and poked at the wingnut on her antenna with his own.

"Ya got hitched, didja? So how knocked-up did he getcha first?" He spat on the floor. "A tow truck for a son-in-law, wonderful." Doreen was still rendered speechless, and her eyes strayed to the deep gashes along his side panels.

"Oh, those? Got 'em bustin' through the fence at the jail," he crowed proudly, even though it was apparent the wounds had to be maddeningly painful. "There's a guard back there who'll be lucky to wake up tomorrow with a bad headache, provided he wakes up at all."

"You left the boys behind?" she asked.

He nodded. "Fer now." Grabbing her sideview mirror roughly with his antenna, he dragged her toward the door. "It's _you_ who's gonna git me to freedom." She struggled but Monroe was a larger truck with a stronger engine and he could easily overpower her.

They took the off-road path to the Glug-'N-Gas, the only remaining station in the rural area after her family's business had been leveled. Smashing through the door at her father's command, Doreen had already surmised his plans and how she was to be involved.

"I'm gonna let ya go after ya help me," he offered once they were inside, then added unpleasantly, "but I'm comin' back to git even with ya and yer husband fer what ya done. Might be tomorrow night, might be a year from now, you'll never really know when to expect me. When I'm done layin' low and come back to git ya, ya'll be really sorry ya done double-crossed me." He gathered up several plastic jugs and moved toward the pumps behind the beverage counter.

"C'mon, help me fill these," he barked. "I need enough for the next several weeks." Shaking, Doreen switched on the pumps and the numbers started rolling as the tanks filled. When he'd filled his bed with the tanks and she had helped him tie down a tarp over them, he knocked the gas nozzle from her grip to the floor, where it continued to dispense gas across the tiles. The smaller pickup bent to retrieve it but her father clubbed her with a tire. She slid to the floor, scrambling to regain her balance in the pool of liquid that was surrounding them both.

"No, let it be!" Monroe bellowed. "I'm leavin' no evidence behind, an' I always hated this store after old Smedley picked up my business once I was outta the picture." He pulled a lighter off a spinning rack.

"Pa, ya can't!" Doreen yelped, realizing the scenario she'd escaped at the Windshields was about to happen anyway, but on a grander scale considering the amount of gasoline flooding the store.

Monroe calmly tossed her the lighter. "No, I'll leave that to _you_. Ya are yer father's daughter like ya done said so yerself! Now light 'er up."

Doreen let the plastic device bounce off her hood and splash into the liquid on the ground, then crushed it deliberately with a tire. When her father lunged at her in fury, she was ready. They grappled, getting drenched with the spilled gasoline, but her father knocked her into a display rack and seized another lighter. He made it emit a short orange flame, sneered triumphantly and tossed it to her. It bounced off one shelf of the mangled rack to the next, as if in slow motion.

Doreen charged forward as the entire gas station erupted in an inferno. Shattering through the large front window, she hit the ground outside roughly, surrounded by shards of glass. She was almost deaf from the explosion of the building's windows and her suspension had not been strong enough to prevent her body from being painfully mashed against her tires and the ground, but the flames had not touched her.

"Mater!" she screamed, seeing him rushing into the lot. A second later, her father plunged through the exit she'd made, roaring off crazily but somehow unharmed. She pulled away from the raging fire and into the nearby woods where she collapsed, gasping.

"What have I done?" she asked, as the flames continued to devour what little was left of someone's livelihood.

"He made ya do it," the tow truck insisted. "Ya never had a choice."

She shook her head vehemently. "The law ain't never gonna see it that way. There's no gittin' out of this one like I did last time. I can't go to the same jail as my brothers, I'll git killed!" Admitting she was right, Mater could see no other way out.

"What are ya gonna do?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"I always had this escape plan if things ever got real bad with my family," she said sadly. "I got a great-granny livin' down south, she'd probably take me in and I could start a new life fer myself." Tears weaved among the rivulets of gasoline on her hood. "'Course it wouldn't be much of a life without ya in it. You've got to stay here and watch yerself and Lizzie 'cause my dad's still after ya. " They hurriedly kissed for what they knew would be the last time for a long while.

"I'm gonna make somethin' of myself, an' hopefully make up for this." Doreen vowed. "By the time I get back, I'll be someone ya kin be proud to call yer wife."

"I already am, Doreen. Yer the best thing that ever happened to me. I love ya and good luck," said Mater. He watched as she drove off until her taillights faded in the darkness.

* * *

Back in Radiator Springs, Sheriff had been reluctantly watching over Lizzie's shop when the county police radioed him to inform him of the fire. They'd already found Monroe's tire tracks, as well as those of his daughter. Both were being classified as wanted criminals. 

When Mater rolled back wearily and said he hadn't found Doreen, Sheriff struggled to find the words necessary to inform him that his wife had not been quite who he'd thought.

"Yeah, and right before she tore outta here she found out she weren't pregnant, either."

"Oh no," Sheriff said, almost whispering. "I'm so sorry…I mean, I guess it's better she wasn't, but…you've got to realize, I was only trying to do the right thing by ordering you to the courthouse. I doubt that you would have left her anyway, but I couldn't see that girl left alone to raise your child." He added wistfully, "That's what happened to my own ma."

"We can have the marriage annulled for you if you'd like, son. She did abandon you," Sheriff offered gently.

"No," sniffed the heartbroken tow truck. "I'd rather be married in name only than to have lost her altogether." Accepting that he'd overcome his denial in time, Sheriff watched Mater slump to the floor of his shack, one tire resting on a ragged quilt that must have been his wife's.

* * *

Tow Mater deflected questions from his neighbors about what had happened between himself and Doreen, only telling Tommy Joe and Becky the true story. Only Doc and Sheriff knew they'd ever been married, and Mater grew so evasive when anyone brought up the topic of his relationship that everyone else assumed the rusty pickup must have cheated on him and left him for another the same night she'd helped her father torch the gas station. Eventually the tow truck only spoke of Doreen as though they'd had a brief summer romance, and he tore the metal panels off his shed. 

Three decades passed.


	7. Under Pressure

_September 30, 1975_

_Hi Doreen! This is Tommy Joe writing to you at your granny's because Mater can't type so well or even spell most words. Haha! He doesn't know I wrote that! He's telling me what else to write, though. He says that the guard your pa beat up is out of the hospital now and he's going to be okay. Smedley's insurance covered his gas station and they still haven't found your pa. Mater's watching over Lizzie and you're on the county's most wanted list even though we know you didn't help your father loot and burn that station of your own free will. They used one of your old photos from the sponsorship ads and Mater says you're the best looking truck on that wanted poster. He stole a copy of it from the post office and hung it up at his junkyard._

_Anyway, Mater says he misses you something fierce and he wishes there were some way to prove what really happened that night, but nobody would believe us. He's still sad but (I'm writing this on my own) I'm not going to let him pine away. I took him out to tip tractors and he hasn't done that all summer since he met you. Becky says to say hi and don't worry, we're going to mail this letter from three towns away and in your granny's name so nobody figures out who we're really sending it to._

_There's one more thing that you should know. Not long ago, Chrissi was preparing to leave since it was the end of summer. Well, she took one of those dipstick tests just to check things out, and she FLUNKED! I'm going to be a daddy, can you believe it? She's staying around now and we're really happy together. She says this is the longest she's ever been with one guy.

* * *

_

_January 1976_

_Hi, lover. You'd damn well better burn this letter after you read it but I know you probably won't, so at least hide it real well. I am back to good health and it turns out I had a horrible case of mono, one of the worst the doctor down here said he's ever seen. Sure hope you never got it. I imagine the constant worry over my family didn't help things, either. The doctor was good and mad that I got even sicker working overtime at my new job before I came to see him, but I had to pay him for his care somehow. Speaking of which, I'm sending a plain white envelope stuffed with cash each month to Smedley. I don't care if his insurance did cover everything; I should've been able to stop what happened and I'll work myself to the death until he's been paid up._

_I still feel bad about the circumstances of our marriage. I'm glad you were serious about marrying me anyway, seeing as that's how it worked out. I haven't taken your ring off once and there will never be anyone else. I've turned that part of me off like it was a switch. Someday we'll be together again, but I almost wish I'd let the law catch up with me. I'm starting to think I'll be away longer than I probably would have if I had served my time in jail. At least then I'd be with you again once my term was up. The way I see it, unless Pa gets himself caught and admits he forced me to help him loot that place, everyone's just going to assume I turned out rotten like they expected._

_I took a fake name and started a new life like I said I would, because if nothing else, Pa taught me how to cheat the system that way. My granny thinks I came down here just because my family's imprisoned and I'm lonely, and I don't have the heart to tell the poor dear otherwise. By the way, it kills me to write this but we'd better not send each other letters anymore. If you get caught with one you'll have a lot of explaining to do and you're still lucky they never tied us to the Windshield break-in. Tell Tommy Joe congratulations.

* * *

_

_August 2005_

Mater finished loading a flatbed trailer with cubes made up of crushed auto parts. He had hired Lightning's hauler, Mack, to transport the scrap to the large junk depot at the far edge of the county, and the superliner was due to pick it up the next day. The prices for steel were up slightly and the tow truck hoped he'd make enough to at least break even this month. Profits had been minimal lately and he only hoped business would pick up once McQueen finished building his racing headquarters across town. It was enticing to imagine sleepy Radiator Springs repopulated and bustling with tourists, as it had been in his early youth.

He had worked throughout the sweltering day and past dusk, trying not to remind himself that tomorrow was his thirtieth wedding anniversary. Despite his efforts, his mind kept drifting back to the way he had stood beside Doreen in the courtroom, both of them younger and scared to death but full of naïve optimism for their future together. He couldn't stop dreaming of how she had felt in his embrace when they'd first tried to become lovers, and the absolute trust she had put in him the night they had finally succeeded. He even cracked a smile remembering how she'd tangled with him at the racetrack after he'd crashed into her.

Worn out, he retired to his shack and opened the wooden trunk in which he'd stored her belongings. She hadn't brought much with her when she'd moved in with him, just the old quilt and some photographs of her family, as well as some pictures they'd taken at his place. There they were, frozen in time and happy together. In his favorite photo, she'd been standing in his junkyard, caught off guard when he'd grabbed the camera but making eyes at him as she only would for a lover.

He was distracted by the sound of a motor as someone approached his property. Setting the photographs back in the trunk, he turned on the light above his shack and prepared to greet his late-night customer. McQueen had become a national hero at the Piston Cup only a few weeks ago, but there had already been a small influx of visitors to town, mostly members of the news media. They often came calling at odd hours in need of random replacement parts, but Mater was always willing to assist them at any hour just for the business.

"Doreen," he breathed, as if seeing an apparition. The pickup stood directly under the archway leading to his property, blinking under the harsh overhead lights for a moment before rushing forward.

"Mater! Damn did I miss ya!" she gasped, and they were soon embracing for all they were worth. When she finally pulled back, there was concern in her eyes. "There…ain't no one else in yer life now? 'Cause I can hardly blame ya if ya found someone new."

Mater ran a tire slowly over her bumper. "Well, I've been chasin' away the throngs of gals flockin' after me since ya left and I even had to put barbed wire over my fence to keep 'em out, but yer the only one fer me. Ya haven't changed a bit! Ya still got those cute lil' rust freckles."

"Yeah," she said, "funny thing about that. I made it to my granny's and saved enough to get a brand spankin' new paint restoration and nice tires, but then I realized that weren't the way to git respect. I went for a clear-coat of Rust-Eze instead. Supposedly I ain't gonna rust further, but I'll keep what I have now, thank you very much. I turned around and used the money to put myself through business school, and did it _ever_ feel good rollin' across that graduation stage wearing those damn retreads everyone likes to laugh at. I wish my pa had been there to see it just 'cause it woulda pissed him off so much. He never had no love of book-learnin' but ya know, they say success is the best revenge."

"I've been busy too," said Mater, "I actually race at the Rustbucket now and I was part of Lightning McQueen's pit crew at the Piston Cup!"

"I know," she said in awe, "I was shocked when I saw ya on TV and I knew I had to come back to yer side, no matter what happens next."

Mater continued proudly, "And best of all, Sheriff made me the manager of the impound lot. Check _this_ out, it's my tools of the trade!" He led her over to a second, newer shed on his property and she peered inside. It was full of towing chains and various locks and restraints for keeping vehicles from escaping the fenced lot adjacent to the junkyard.

"This _is_ all just for your job, right?" she asked wryly. It took the tow truck a moment to catch the joke, then he laughed and nuzzled her fender lovingly.

"Yer so funny, dang did I miss ya." He yawned despite himself and suggested they return to his shack. Having driven for twelve hours straight for three days in a row, Doreen didn't protest.

Mater updated her on life in Carburetor County. Tommy Joe and Chrissi had three kids now, Becky had finally married her fiance, and there was an entirely new crop of Pit Girls at the races, safe from Tommy Joe's advances now that Chrissi held his attention. The guard her father had beaten had made a full recovery and Smedley ran two gas stations, one paid for by his insurance and the other with the money Doreen had dutifully sent over the years. Smedley told anyone who would listen that he had never believed the pickup would've willingly burnt his station, but the law still thought otherwise. Her brothers had gradually been released from prison, though none of them had chosen to settle in the area.

"Yer pa still ain't surfaced," the tow truck said anxiously. "Think he likes it better that way. Instead of goin' after us, he hurt us far worse by keepin' us apart fer thirty years."

"Yeah," sighed Doreen, "in the end, he won." Reluctantly, she told Mater she had no choice but to turn herself in to Sheriff first thing in the morning. "I'll take my punishment like any Tireiron would," she said stubbornly, and Mater didn't bother to remind her she had shed her last name when she'd married him.

"If ya don't mind my askin', what the hell happened to yer hood? Can't say I didn't notice that when I saw ya on TV!" He had rusted considerably more over the years, but that was to be expected with the type of work he did. Doreen was already feeling a longing for what they'd once had together and was debating whether it was too soon to act on it.

Mater laughed. "Aw, it fell off a long time ago. I lost a headlight and a few of my rooftop blinkers too, but the rest of me is all accounted fer." He let her kiss him but surprised himself by gently pushing her back when she tried to get closer.

"Sorry," he said, scarcely believing he was capable of such control. "I love ya more than ever but we can't git carried away if yer goin' to jail tomorrow. I'd just feel like I was usin' ya." He settled next to her wistfully, and though a bit hurt, Doreen was finally lulled to sleep by his snoring, her antenna slung over the place where his hood used to be.

* * *

Mater awoke, alone, to the sound of Mack hitching up the trailer of scrap metal. He hurriedly paid the superliner and saw him off, stewing over how his wife was going to fare. 

Meanwhile, Doreen stood in the tiny cell at the police station, a tire boot clamped over one of her front wheels.

"I just hope this is all a formality," Sheriff told her. "We haven't told Mater yet, but we found your father a month ago." The pickup winced.

"He didn't hurt nobody, did he?"

"He isn't going to hurt anyone ever again, Doreen. There's no gentle way to say this, but he's been dead all this time." She cried out in confusion and the cruiser continued, "It's actually in the jurisdiction of the county police, but they've been keeping me updated. They just identified his body this week after some kids came across it while camping. Seems he went off a cliff on Tractorpath Road the night he looted the station. The jugs of fuel and everything else that was missing from the Glug-'N-Gas was still scattered around him, hidden by a lot of rock formations and junk that folks had tossed off the cliff over the years. There wasn't much left of him, but we do need you to positively identify him from our photos." Doreen only hoped she could stand to help them.

The county police arrived quickly, eager to speak to someone at the core of one of their most baffling cold cases. They watched the pickup's face as she assessed the grim photos arranged on the large conference table before her. She eyed them with clinical coldness at first, then bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"That's him," she said quietly. "You can see the brown paint rubbed onto his wheel wells in this one here, and that's from me. He attacked me when I tried to stop him from lightin' the place up, and I fought back somethin' fierce and lost a lot of paint in the process." The cruisers exchanged glances, for she had unwittingly confirmed what they'd suspected after studying evidence from the body. The dry desert heat had preserved it well enough that they had been able to identify additional injuries Monroe had suffered from crashing through the station after setting it afire.

Sheriff slipped out quietly and returned with Mater. "Now we're really getting somewhere," he coaxed as everyone gathered around the table and the pictures had been taken away, "but it's time for you to tell us the whole story." One of Mater's tires locked reassuringly with her own, Doreen began to speak. This time she left out no details, and the officers scribbled in their notebooks furiously, making notes as the story unfolded.

"Whatever happens, I'm damn proud of ya," Mater praised her as they were left alone during a lunch break. "But I'm sorry about yer pa. Even if I wasn't his favorite truck, he was yer family." Parked again in the cell, the pickup chewed a sandwich from a plate the officers had delivered.

"I'm numb about that," Doreen admitted, not sure how she should feel. "I can't mourn the guy who exploited us and threatened ya, not to mention tried his best to leave me fer dead in the fire. But someday yer gonna hafta bear with me when I cry over the guy who wept in front of his kids when his gas station was bein' torn down. That's the Pa I'll remember."

The questioning dragged on throughout the day, and continued even after the neon lights on Main Street blinked on for the night, reflected in the metal louvered shades hanging in the windows. After recessing themselves to discuss the case, the officers returned to their spots around the table.

"Well, this gives me a case of déjà vu," began one of the veteran officers, who had been a rookie when he had questioned Mater and Doreen about the Windshield break-in, "but there won't be any charges." Doreen could scarcely believe what she was hearing. "Now that we have all the answers we need, the evidence leads us to believe your participation in this crime was involuntary. Smedley pointed out to us right at the beginning that something didn't seem right, what with those shelves that had been smashed up before they'd burned. We never did understand why there'd have been such a destructive fight between two thieves who had, up till that moment, been working in unison. Your brothers in jail told us that intimidation was a tactic your father used often and even they couldn't believe you would have willingly participated." He snorted. "Might have been the first time those boys ever told the truth."

Doreen breathed a deep sigh and thanked the officers as they filed out. Sheriff escorted the couple back to the junkyard, for the officers still needed to file their completed paperwork before Doreen could be freed. As he flipped through the photographs the pickup had salvaged, he pieced together the life she must have had before her family's luck had taken a turn for the worse. There were a few photos of her mother, who had been an attractive car, cuddling her children before she'd taken ill and left them behind. Other pictures showed her father, grinning broadly from behind the counter of the Quick Gas with his kids around him. He looked nothing like the embittered truck in the prison mug shots Sheriff was accustomed to seeing.

"I know there's bad blood between us," the cruiser said gently to Doreen. "But I had to uphold the law during the investigation and I'm sure you can see that." The pickup nodded, though it was hard to bring herself to trust an authority figure. "As for your marriage, I am deeply sorry I mistakenly forced you into that. Mater told me you found out you weren't going to be a mama after all and believe me, I have dealt with the guilt ever since. It's one of the few decisions I've made that I hated myself for later." Sheriff swallowed, as that last part hadn't been easy to admit.

"It's okay," said Doreen cautiously. "We were in love anyway and even though nothin' turned out like ya'd expect, I'm sorta glad ya had a part in gittin' us together." She brushed against Mater, who nuzzled her in return, glad to see his wife make peace with the closest car he had to a father. Sheriff suddenly excused himself to receive a private transmission over the police band radio, and addressed the pickup in short order.

"It's official, you're no longer a wanted criminal and you're free to go, but only on one condition," Sheriff said mysteriously.

"What's that?" asked Doreen.

"That you resume lovin' on this guy as soon as you're both up to it," laughed the cruiser, abruptly losing his stern tone. "The only time we had any peace in this town was when you kept him preoccupied. Ever since you left he's been setting the tractors loose through the streets, spraypainting walls, setting off fireworks and what have you. It's more criminal mischief than we can stand!" The corners of his mustache curled up into a smile, for Mater was already gazing longingly at his estranged wife. Doreen knew better than to believe they'd ease back slowly into things, as her desire was already intensifying as well.

"Good night, then, you two," said Sheriff, winking. "Happy Anniversary!" He drove toward the gates of the junkyard, his heart light.


	8. I Was Made for Loving You

_**Author's Note:** This final chapter, while not explicit, is highly suggestive with adult content._

_Thanks to the proboards and LJ Cars slash communities for beta-reading parts of this story (and for the "guide" to car relations ;) and to xForeignxConceptsx for her helpful comments. Thanks also to Nevuela, who drew two scenes from this fanfic, one of which is definitely not worksafe! They can be found, along with her other Cars art, at fanart-central and hentai-foundry._

* * *

After switching off the overhead lights, Mater had Doreen embraced tightly in his tow cable before the officer had even left the junkyard. Any late-night customers would just have to wait until morning. 

"You heard him, babe. We are to resume our marital relations. Those are a lawman's orders," Mater joked. _And you don't know how badly I need this._ Pulling her forward, he strained with effort.

"Sheez, that lemon left the damn parkin' boot on," Doreen exclaimed, coming to her senses and futilely shaking her tire. Sheriff, and the key, were across town by now. Her husband grinned rakishly.

"Well now, do ya really need to drive away just yet, ain't ya gonna stay awhile?"

"Ya bet I am," she blushed a deep crimson across her hood, "ya deviant." When Mater locked his lips to hers she felt like she had finally come home.

"Go Mater! You've got a prisoner of loooove!" Startled, the tow truck pulled away and beamed back at Lightning and Sally, who had stopped by after their evening cruise after hearing that Mater's old flame had returned. The racecar smirked, surveying the unexpected scene. "I had no idea you were into…"

"Yer just jealous." Mater grinned smugly at his best friend, then made some very hasty and awkward introductions. He looked down at Doreen apologetically. "Ah, sorry 'bout that interruption. Lightning's still sore 'cause I burst in on him when he was gonna kiss Miss Sally."

"Paybacks are hell, man," laughed McQueen. "I thought I might find you doing some backwards driving on the highway tonight, but it looks like someone's getting his kicks _off_ Route 66 for a change."

Doreen turned, as much as she could, toward the racing champion and his girlfriend. "Then stare all ya want, the admission's free," she said casually, "but I gotta warn ya, this might get dirty real fast." As she turned her attention back to the tow truck, Lightning blanched slightly. Ramone had warned him Mater's lover was a real piece of work.

"I think this is where we might want to leave, Sally," he said to the Porsche, sniggering as he wheeled away.

"They gone?" asked Doreen, opening one eye. "Good. Seein' as I can't move much without yer help, it's yer lucky night and ya get to call the shots." She was grateful when Mater wasted no time taking advantage of the situation.

* * *

"Wow," he breathed when they were done. "I missed that something terrible. This is like the weddin' night we never got to have." Nuzzling her, he added, "Soon as I get enough money from my scrap business, I'm gonna marry ya all over agin. It won't be anythin' big and fancy, but I want all our friends to be with us as we renew our vows for our new life together." 

"So they'd finally find out that we've been married fer this long. I like it." Doreen smiled up at the stars overhead. "Makin' love felt different this time, safer and more right somehow. We woulda saved ourselves a helluva lot of trouble by waitin' until we coulda got hitched all proper."

"I can't argue with ya there," said the tow truck. "We shoulda just eloped. Still, we got some great years ahead of us and we could try for kids if ya'd like. We ain't that old."

"We still got CB antennas and eight-track players," laughed Doreen. Smitten, Mater gazed dreamily at his lover before she broke the silence, lifting a wheel toward him.

"Hey, would ya git the key fer this danged tire boot already," she said wryly, "like I didn't know ya had a spare all along." It was Mater's turn to blush.

"Ya might have to ask me a lot nicer than that," he teased, and as they leaned in for another kiss he couldn't help but think they had somehow redeemed the misadventures of their youth and the future could only get better.

The End


End file.
